Arizona Traverse - Solo on a dual sport

[agavelvr]

The lowland road to KofA mine is pretty loose, but I manage and find relief as the trail gains elevation. There are signs everywhere not to park or head down the various private roads. This is still an active mining claim area and I'm guessing they don't like visitors.

Miners at the King of Arizona Mine IN Kofa, courtesy History and Archives Division, Arizona State Library, Archives and Public Records, obtained from http://azmemory.lib.az.us/

I look around for a minute and then I'm off to Engesser Pass. The trail in that direction is really fun. It is very scenic and rambles up and down the various hills. I drop the bike a few more times, but manage to lift it up loaded due to a gentle slope and firm ground. Pollo is a heavy beast, but lifting her is a boost to my confidence since I didn't have to unload.

Everything from Engesser to KofA Cabin is a blast. I seem to have landed in my groove with the gravel and bike in general. Lots of big rocks, steep climbs & descents on this side of the KofA. I easily clear Engesser, though I drop the bike once more on the down side. The other tricky parts begin leading up to Red Rock Dam. The most technical sections yet. I carefully pick my lines and get my money's worth out of 1st and 2nd gear, using compression braking on the down hills. I am beginning to understand why some people advise regearing the KLR for off road travel. I would be a little more comfortable on the down hills if I could shave a little speed thru gear ratio.

Once I hit the junction with the pipeline road, choices…
Visit KofA Cabin and camp in the vicinity or press on to gas at I-8 or Salome. I end up at the cabin, which is empty and available. No tent tonight! A table, chair, and some plywood bunks grace the clean interior of this stone CCC project. I'm living the good life this evening thanks to an early arrival.


King of the castle, if only for a night

I get a text out to share my good fortune with friends. I really don't care for hauling all this technology with me, but occasional communications makes my family happy and allows me to do these solo trips. I clean up, make dinner, and fire up a celebratory stogie as I watch the stars emerge. I feel like I'm beginning to get the hang of this motorcycle thing finally. Confidence is building with each obstacle and I'm not thinking about my actions as much. Tomorrow at this time, I hope to be in Wickenburg or beyond.

Progress to date

The story continues on Day Four...

 

[1leglance]

All Hands Alert...get this site fixed as I gotta know the story behind that pic

 

[nwoods]

All Hands Alert...get this site fixed as I gotta know the story behind that pic

X2!!!!

 

[nwoods]

Day Three – KofA - Wherever I may Roam I decide to do the entire eastern edge of KofA rather than head over to dripping springs. This would give me an opportunity to see the KofA Mine and perhaps a cabin or two. Besides, I had some tracks to explore to keep this show off the pavement. Unlike the Camino, the area between KofA and Wickenburg has not been formally defined in the traverse and consists of a combination of BLM, State, and private lands. I have my own secret stash of waypoint in need of visiting, so I head East.

That's awesome. I stitched together a route through KofA similar to what you might have traversed. I too wanted to avoid the highway, but we were critically short on time. That cabin looks amazing. Everything like it here in CA is trashed, shot up, and graffi'ed. Both Chris and I where really impressed with how neat and tidy everything in AZ appeared to be. Even the road signs were intact, with very few (if any) bullet holes.

Loving your write up. Keep the adventure coming!

 

[grahamfitter]

Your "I'm going on a motorcycle trip but I don't have a bike and I don't know how to ride one" intro is the best one ever! Many motorcycle trips seem to begin with "I selected a ride from a collection of well farkled specimens in the garage..."

Well done, and I'm looking forward to the rest of the story.

 

[1leglance]

Jeff your pics & writing together are great.
I am really getting a feel for how each day went and what the travel was like.

One way or another I am taking my family on this route!

 

[PirateMcGee]

MORE!!

 

[agavelvr]

Day Four – KofA to Wickenburg - Airborne
slipp'n in my hands
I got shake'n in my knee
maybe loosing ground
but I'm never out of steam
I've gotta rocket on my backdoor

KofA cabin was a nice change from sleeping on the ground. Just being able to put on my boots from an elevated/seated position made it easier on my back and knees. Bed wise, my aircore feels the same on rock or plywood bunk, so my sleep was good. Oats for breakfast and I’m out after a quick sweep of the castle. There is a gas station just off the KofA on the freeway. It is a full service truck stop with a little Mexican food restaurant adjacent to it.

The trail over to I-10 primarily follows a wide, loose wash which should probably be avoided when wet.


Evidence of cattle operations

Just before crossing I-10

Add about ¾ mile of pavement here.




Over 1-10 and through the Little Harquahala Mnts. is where the real fun begins. Over 20 mines indicated on the map within 1 mile in some areas. The trail varies between twists, washes, steep climbs, and straight shots. Everything is a great time, though some sections present a challenge. I would love to return to this area and camp for a few days just to hike around and check out all the ruins.

This section in particular that would be difficult in a full sized vehicle. A loose shelf road with a section that is off camber and very eroded. There is a cool concrete cistern at the saddle once you make it with stunning views to either side of the mountain.

Eventually, I hit slab in my attempt to get over to the (big) Harquahala Mountains. I take it to a well marked BLM road which lines up with my GPS tracks. Low foothills = fast riding with the occasional wash crossing.

I just feel dialed in today. Knee is killing me, but otherwise me and the machine are like one. Turns and jumps are confident, feels like setting an edge on a big carve. A huge difference from the past two days.

I start heading uphill towards the Smithsonian Solar Observatory and the trail gets rougher with increased pitch. Wash crossings are steeper and more technical.

I laid down solid tracks till the magic bus. Lost the trail at that point and had to get back to pavement. I’m working with the BLM to work out dirt connections in this area since they have not published a revised map yet. Just like the forest service, they have been actively signing open routes and inventorying it all in GIS. Unfortunately, it wasn’t public at the time of my departure, so I was doing a bit of exploring in making this leg of the traverse.

On one stretch, I followed a power line trail. Straight as an arrow, following rolling hills makes for interesting riding. The power lines don’t care how rough this configuration makes the road. I don’t either, the challenge is welcome. I get so caught up in blasting up and down this section that I somehow miss one of my plan connectors. The power lines intersect a big was near the main drag, with a sneaky exit to the right bank.

I end up at the Vulture mine and take a little break to consult my maps and plan a return visit to eliminate some pavement I ended up on. It is here I see a couple of cowboys tending to a cow. They walk back to their truck, their dog comes over to pay me a visit. After the dog tests my ear scratching skills, he returns to the cow which is laying under the shade of a mesquite tree. Then, something very surprising happens. The dog kisses the cow. Now, I lived on a ranch and had a few working dogs of my own…the cows and dogs usually enjoyed an uneasy friendship at best since the dogs were always telling the cows what to do. Puzzled, I walk over to the cowboys and ask them what is going on with their cow. They explain that she was hit by a car last night and wasn’t doing so great. I feel bad for the cow and reflect upon the amazing compassion dogs have.

I cruise around some of the dirt trails south of town to find a camping spot for a while. It’s getting dark and I’m not having much luck. Lots of State Trust land with no trespassing signs. The yokel factor is high out here with lots of people camping and racing around the roads in their trucks and atvs. After having a near collision with said yokel, I decide to have a town night and seek the refuge of a flea bag motel. It’s a welcome opportunity to grab some chow and hit the showers. I have a plate of enchiladas and homemade flan, which I’m surprised to find is actually better than what I make at home.

I opt not for the movies and turn in for the evening.

Later this evening, my knee benefits from an ice pack and healthy dose of ibuprofen.

Progress to date

The story continues on Day Five...

 

[agavelvr]

I want to thank you all again for your kind words. I hope this trip report inspires you to get out, explore, and share your adventures too.

 

[Scott Brady]

I really enjoyed this one section. It was challenging enough and clearly had little traffic. It was even tight for the Jeeps

Can't wait to hear what you think of the Wickenburg to Crown King route - and the sand wash

 

[1leglance]

Jeff you are doing a great job..
funny thing is even though I know you are back safe & sound as I am reading I still find myself feeling tensely wondering "what will happen next, will he crash again, I hope he does ok"
Oh well great reads and it does make be want to get out there.

 

[agavelvr]

Day Five – Wickenburg to Crown King – Time Stands Still
I'm not looking back
But I want to look around me now

As usual, morning comes too soon. A night of rest has helped my knee and I hope a strong dose of ibuprofen works some magic. I pack the bike and prepare for my next leg of the journey. I manage to find the library in town and consider spending some time posting updates…well, you know how that worked out by now : ) I'm enjoying the ride too much to put myself in front of a computer.

I head out on Constellation Mine Road, which is paved quite a ways now. As civilization begins to fade in the distance, I leave the pavement and begin the ride to Crown King. Old mines begin appearing in the hills, they are pretty much everywhere.

Loosing myself in the winding track, I manage to miss a turn and end up taking a lesser road to some small buildings after passing thru an open gate. Here, I find a grey haired man and what appears to be his bunker. I ask Bob if the track I am on is a forest service road. After inquiring what I am up to, I explain to Bob that I am out exploring and verifying the condition of various roads. His guard is up as he asks if I work for the Forest Service. I give him firm “hell no, I'm just out having fun and trying to find open roads”, not mentioning my previous work with the agency. Bob nods and then steps inside his open shed. A large lump forms in my throat as I wonder if I'm about to be filled with buckshot. “This is what you need!” he enthusiastically shouts as he emerges from the shed with the largest pair of bolt cutters I think I've ever seen. “It's our land and you need to show those mother-(lovemakers) who's in charge!”

I have a good laugh and then let Bob educates me on the problems with the country, why he lives in the middle of nowhere, and various other tid bits. We're chatting for a good 15 minutes and I point to the hills and ask about the name of the ridge so I can find it on my map. This turns out to be a big mistake, as just above the ridge is a familiar vapor trail chasing a large aircraft. “You know what a chemtrail is son”? “Nope, what's that Bob,” I curiously reply knowing I'm in for a good one now. I end up with enough information to fill a few Wikipedia pages on the topic. I was tempted to refute his position by offering that it would be far more economically viable to control the masses by playing with the water supply. Just then another man of the mountains turns onto the road below in an old CJ. Bob tells me that I had better get going before his friend gets up here because that guy is a bit long winded. With 45 minutes or so killed, I thank Bob for the warning and bid him and his bunker farewell.

I backtrack a bit and find my missed turn and get onto another jeep trail. The trail is kind and I'm cruising through some beautiful Sonoran desert vegetation and colorful rock. Slowly, the trail becomes more difficult with loose uphills and downhills.

What goes up….


must come down of course. I christen this waypoint “Ouch”

I'm finding myself in the most technical stretches of the trip yet. I crash hard several times, with one ejection resulting in me tumbling downhill 20 feet or so before coming to rest. The sun is warm on my face and I decide to lay there and catch my breath for a while. I'm getting overheated and the bike's radiator fan is kicking in on each uphill due to my slow progress.


We take a break at this nice grove of trees.

I really thought today was going to be fast and fun like yesterday…and it was for a short while. This route to Crown King is becoming a death march for a newbie like myself.

Feeling like that lone saguaro right about now.

I keep using my GPS to search for Walker Gulch, figuring this would be the end of my day's drama and a good place to take a lunch break. The miles pass slowly and I take a break at the Bradshaw Grave.

This section of the AZ Traverse is posted on the site and has good waypoints, two of which indicate a stretch of 3 miles of deep sand in the bottom of Castle Creek. Honestly, I'm not looking forward to this after my first three days of the trip. I don't have to look at the GPS to signal this portion of the ride, as the sand and my front tire embrace each other like old lovers. They try to throw me off once more, but I am having none of it. I remind them that I am in charge and proceed down a beautiful canyon. I'm focused so much on keeping upright that I forget to shoot any pictures. Once I arrive at Walker Gulch, me and the Pollo deserve a nice break to cool down. Perhaps I have gained some skills on this ride, or maybe the sand here wasn't quite as bad as elsewhere. Regardless, Pollo and I have successfully crossed this tough section without issue.

Heading north is a welcome change as the day is getting long. There are many miles to cover if I am to camp at Crown King. I am able to make some time through these sections up thanks to the generous uphills. Going up is much easier for me since you can power up just about anything by twisting the throttle and holding on for dear life. Downhill is where the skills are really tested.

Sun is getting lower in the sky, and I'm a long ways out still.

What was I saying about the ease of uphills? Somewhere past the last picture, Pollo decides she has had enough on a steep uphill and bucks me off about half way up one of the longer, steeper uphill sections I have met on the trip. I have to unload the bike to lift her. Once I get that done, I right the bike only to find I have nowhere to safely keep her that way. I jump on to get going, and promptly set her back down, gently this time in a futile effort to gain favor with the beast.

I ferry my gear up hill to a flat section near a gate I will have to eventually pass. Hiking this even proves challenging in my motocross boots and the loose conditions. I make my way back down to the bike. The sun is getting ready to say goodnight. Pollo and I have a long heart to heart about the task at hand. I'm not one to name vehicles and do not recall talking to one in the past. Somehow, this all seems rational when you are all alone, miles from your next camp, and facing a tough challenge.

In my mind, Pollo agrees to what I have asked and we are off once more. Keep in mind, I'm new to all this and have never been in such a predicament. Front brake alone will not hold the bike on this slope. I awkwardly apply brakes, front and rear, while maintaining my balance with one foot. Pollo starts up by with a belching backfire. I have to let out the clutch while holding the brakes and applying throttle simultaneously. This does not work and I nearly tip over a few times. With practice comes success, Pollo gains traction while I precariously ease off the brakes and prepare to summit my little Everest. At one point we hit a nice bump which nearly brings us to a halt. I'm thrown forward and struggle not to loose the throttle. With hand firmly gripping the bar, Pollo drags me up the slope while my legs dangle from the sides like flags flapping in the wind. We get to the gate in one frazzled piece and I thank the bike for not letting me down. After a calming break, I load up and continue the journey. Fortunately, this is the last of the major challenges of the day.

A glimpse of Lake Pleasant reminds me that the hard part is done.

Random relics of the mining history of these mountains can be found everywhere

I continue to Crown King under guidance of my anemic headlights. The road is good and I pick up some speed as the temperature begins to drop. I was so hot earlier today, now I am thinking of adding my insulated layers. I switch from my sweat soaked gloves to my winter riding pair and continue on. I find my first water crossings of the trip and many fall leaves on the trail. Remembering my youtube training, I'm careful through these seemingly innocent obstacles without incident. All those videos and pictures I looked at on ADV in the week leading up to the trip proved to be valuable teachers.

Progress to date

The story continues with an evening in Crown King and Day Six...

 

[nwoods]

It is so fun to read your account of the trip! I love seeing some of the same areas we traversed. Seeing it again really brings back memories. That area in the Bradshaw Mtns between Wickenburg and Crown King is certainly a long haul. Seems like we did the entire 100 miles (+/-) of it in low range first gear...except for the sand canyon, where I had a bit of fun exploring the rev limiter in Chris's 4Runner

I think this is the same spot where you spilled:

The sandy canyon wash - Fun to go fast!

 

[austintaco]

Great trip report!

If I had not just purchased a fllippac, I might be looking for a bike:smiley_drive:

You met some interesting folks along the way. Bob sounds like a character.

 

[agavelvr]

Day Six-Seven – Crown King to Mayer – Unmarked Helicopters
I know truth
I know the whole shebang
I know the names of men they had to hang

Okay, this part of the write up is going to be thin on photos and trails, but rich in story.

By the time I get into Crown King, it is completely dark and quite cold. I'm dreaming of burger at the saloon, but being the day before Thanksgiving, I am ready for disappointment. As I ride into the tiny town, everything is closed and dark for the night, though I spy a truck and a couple of ATVs in front of the Saloon. I am pleased to find about a dozen souls inside, including two of the town's dogs.

My sweat soaked jacket takes up a chair near the wood burning stove while I settle into a stool near the action. The waitress says while the kitchen closes in 30 minutes, the saloon will remain open till the last patron staggers out. I quickly order a burger and beer while enjoying the ambiance of the saloon. I've been here several times before, but always during the busy weekends when the town's population swells with ATV and 4x4 people from Phoenix. Tonight, the vibe is totally different. I am the only traveler today and being solo, I am quickly welcomed by the locals.

I savor every bite of the juicy burger and each swig of my brew, knowing that once they are gone, I will be setting a frigid camp this evening. The waitress returns to offer another beer and I explain that I better not since I have to set camp soon. She then mentions that they have rooms upstairs. I'm torn between camping and staying in the saloon to chat up the locals. I think a big part of travel revolves around the experiences you have with the people who live in the places you pass through, domestic or foreign. So I reply, “Okay, I'll take one”. To which she asks, “a beer or a room?” One of each is my response and I intend on helping close the saloon this evening since I won't be riding till morning.

With the burger gone, I pull up a stool at the bar and join what I learn to be a birthday party for one of the locals. The people here are accustomed to seeing a dirty biker in full regalia, but not on a weekday and especially not before a holiday all by himself. My curious situation draws questions and soon I'm telling the stories you have probably read about thus far.

They ask me where I'm from of course. “Phoenix, by way of Dewey”, explaining that my grandfather had a ranch up north and I went to school at Yavapai College. This gets my glass refilled a third time. Being a fifth generation Arizonan earns me yet another round and an invitation to tomorrow's potluck dinner. Being a close knit town, a potluck at the saloon had been arranged for the locals, and I had honorary citizenship bestowed upon me.

I share some of my photos on the camera and eventually the one with me at the border fence is noted. Now, this is a conversation starter in a small conservative town like CK. The well lubed patrons, self included, begin to discuss the waste of government. Someone proposes a bounty be offered for taking out illegals like “we used to do with the injuns”. I'm not cool with that and casually mention that the human beings a few of these guys would like to train their hunting scopes on probably picked the lettuce that was atop my burger. Icy silence. I quickly regroup and offer, “if you want to earn a bounty, how about opening up the season in Washington, DC. This earns cheers and another round.

To change the direction of the conversation I pull an ace from my sleeve... “Hey, has anyone heard of chemtrails?” This has the desired effect. Forget a Wikipedia page, had I written it all down, I could sell a small vanity press offering on the topic. I learn about eugenics, MK-Delta, the Illuminati, and some Roswell trickle down technology to boot. I had no idea that Chris Carter had either grown up in or retired to CK! Before walking home, one of my new friends wrote down a few of the places I could get “the real news from” on a scrap of paper. This was one of just a few of the gems that kept me entertained for the evening. Ask me for more around a campfire sometime.

As the saloon's population began to wither, the bartender began to lament the evening in store for one of the neighborhood pooches. It seems that whenever there is a domestic disturbance at its home, the dog wanders down to the saloon. Too cold for a dog outside tonight, the barkeep intends on putting her upstairs for the evening in one of the guest rooms. I mention that I like dogs and would be happy to keep her in my room to ward off the ghosts and such. This earns me a significant “holiday discount” on my room and a pocket full of dog bones. I settle my tab, sending the Jackson Three to the cash register. Quite the bargain when you consider I got a burger, a buzz, a bed, and a dog.

These are the many joys of traveling solo.

As you can imagine, morning was a little more difficult than days past. The pain I used to associate with my knee injury has somehow migrated to my head. I debate staying in CK for the town's potluck against making a run down to Chino Valley and spending time with old friends. I split my last dog bone to share with another resident dog and point the Pollo towards Prescott before the town wakes up.

I've traveled the road from Crown King to Prescott many times by mountain bike, 4x4, and a VW beetle one time. Even in my condition, it's a quick trip to the cutoff that heads down to Mayer. I take it, reasoning that when I pick the trail up on Friday, I will do so in Mayer in order to make the traverse a continuous track. The road down the hill is a wide graded track that allows me to make up some time. There are several options for descending to Mayer from CK, but few are suited to a dual sport loaded with gear, especially with a rider nursing a hangover. Be careful if you opt for one of the moto only forest service trails in the area. I have ridden my mountain bike down most of those single tracks and they are suited to experienced riders with lighter bikes IMHO. Sending a big bike with panniers down those could be a death sentence for all but the most experienced rider.

I'm pleased to find that main street Mayer is still charming and quickly make my way to circle K for some hot coffee and a phone call. As I pull in, my rear brake fails for unknown reasons. I really can't figure out why, so I carefully make my way in to town.

Soon I am in Chino Valley with some seedy friends who prefer to remain nameless. Who could blame them, few would want to be associated with a dirt bag traveler such as myself. A quick shower and a fresh change of clothes makes me presentable enough to be hauled over to their parents' house for a fine turkey dinner. That dinner was the only thing that made it into my in-progress report : ) I'm thinking about it right now as I type this over a week later!

My friend's parents are wonderful hosts and many stories are told. In an effort to stave off turkey comma, we take a walk around the ranch where I find my hosts have a passion of dirt track driving as well.

This is a Combined Driving cart used for cross country competition. It has differential disk braking on each wheel, made like an elite mountain bike, and even has a joint in the frame that allows the rear axle to drift around corners.

I am told it cost more than my old Defender, which seems like a bargain when you consider its chassis will never rust, the engine(s) last longer, and it while it may leak a little now and again…it's biodegradable.


Combined driving consists of three events typically: Marathon, Cones, and Dressage. From what I remember, marathon is the horse and buggy equivalent of cross country mountain biking. You race along a course with obstacles, water crossings, etc in an effort to get the best time. The cone event sounded like competitive kayaking, where you must clear a sequence of gates on a course without tipping them as fast as possible.

While all of this sounded pretty exciting, my weary bones were digging the sound of Dressage. That's where you and the horse get dressed up and parade around. To me, this sounded most like a dog show, where you are judged on poise and presentation.

As you might guess, Combined Driving has all kinds of specialty gear associated with it. Top competitors have a rig dedicated for the technical skills and a separate carriage for the fancy Dressage event.

This is an Amish Dressage carriage from their collection.

I grew up around horses and my grandfather had a few show ponies, so I know enough that this is a hobby I can't dedicate any time to. It is interesting nonetheless and I hope to score a ride next time I'm up on the ranch.

I enjoy spending the day with friends, eating like a king, and the comforts of familiar surroundings.

On Friday my host, the guy who actually introduced me to Expo, takes the time to go over my bike with me and repair any problems. I know enough to get by when it comes to wrenching, but my host is expert like in his mechanical craft. Brake fluid is ruined, which we promptly replace. Footpegs are about to fall off thanks to me not remembering to tighten them up before leaving CK. And a few liberated nuts and bolts require a black Friday visit to the Chino Ace Hardware. Somehow, we brave the crowds and manage to secure the hardware we need.

Once we are back at the ranch, my host tidies up a few issues the factory failed to address and I am just about ready to roll again. By the time I get all packed and ready to go, it's after 2PM and my invitation to couch surf is extended.

Don't worry, I get back on the trail tomorrow : )

Progress to date

The story continues with Mayer – Cherry – Jerome on Day Eight...